


poltergeists for sidekicks

by extremelyquestionable (TechnicalTragedy)



Series: house and home unhaunted [2]
Category: The Derp Crew (Youtube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Ghosts, M/M, Moving On, RoyalChaos, ZeRoyalChaos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2703791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicalTragedy/pseuds/extremelyquestionable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i’ll hold your hand forever, or for as long as you need. (waiting for you has been a dream, dear)</p>
            </blockquote>





	poltergeists for sidekicks

"Steven," Anthony says, his voice barely a whisper. I go to stand by his side, as I always do when he gets like this. Something about this time is off, though. His eyes look darker than usual, but it could just be my imagination. I put my hand on his shoulder, wondering if he’ll start crying.

He doesn’t say anything for the longest time, but when he does, his voice is much louder. “I’m so goddamn pathetic, did you know that? I’m a sad sack of crap, and I treated you like such shit. Why the hell did you stay with me?” He pushes himself to his feet, and I step back. “Did you like being put down all the time, or were you just the stupidest person on the fucking planet? God, you never even fought me, always just took the abuse. I’m not worth that.” Anthony’s anger seems to have evaporated, and he slumps back onto my bed. “I’m not worth you,” he says, and he turns his head towards me.

I could swear that he sees me for a second. He’s looking right at me, and I reach out to him, hoping beyond all hope that I’m there, that I’m not just a ghost who’s stayed long past his welcome. I brush his cheek with my hand and it almost seems that he feels it for a moment, but then he looks down and the illusion I had been clinging to unravels.

"I’m so pathetic, talking to myself like this. You’re dead. You’re fucking dead, and it’s all my fault," he hisses vehemently, that previous anger coloring his words again. He sighs, and his anger leaves along with the carbon dioxide in his lungs, both swirling out into the oxygen together. "You loved me. I know you did. Did you even know that I loved you, too? I still love you, which is just sad, because you’re gone, and you aren’t coming back."

I stare at him as he tries to steady his hitching breaths, and I have no idea what to do. I can’t touch him, can’t comfort him as I’d like to. I can’t do anything. I can watch, and I can feel my heart break for him. I know what it’s like to haunt the present, but I have no idea what it’s like to be haunted by the past. Not anymore, at least. Being dead starts fogging your memory, after a while.

Anthony falls asleep in my bed, and that’s something I do know. Tricking yourself into believing you can still smell them on their sheets only makes it hurt worse when you wake up, I’ve found.

Days and months and years blend together after a while, but I think it’s been five years since that night, now. I’ve felt myself getting more and more disconnected, farther and farther from Anthony. I don’t touch him when I try anymore; my fingers go straight through.

I can feel it coming, an inevitable wave that will carry me off to other shores. After all this time, I think we’re finally ready.

Even though my eyelids don’t technically exist anymore, it’s still dark behind them. You know that feeling you get when you’re on the verge of sleep? When you have one foot in the dream world, but the other still in the waking realm?

I’m heavy, but I’m floating. The darkness is starting to look more like light. I hear words, words I’ve been ready for, but now that they’re here I feel afraid.

"Maybe I should have said it a long time ago, but, I think I’m finally ready to say goodbye, Steven," Anthony says, and the words are in my head, expanding into a white noise that keeps pushing out until all that’s left is light.

A long while later, I take Anthony’s hand.

"Been a while," I say, and, though it’s been a lifetime since I last saw it, his smile looks the same.


End file.
